The Race
by clogue33
Summary: This is absolutely crazy. It could never work - despite Alexis' and Mayor Weldon's assurances, Rick Castle could not lead a group of seven million New Yorkers into the new millennium. Or could he? He loves New York, the people, the aura, the past and the potential. But will his family survive the onslaught into his life? Still, that's not his biggest hurdle.
1. Chapter 1

The Race

"Let's watch it again. But this time do it as a native New Yorker and a voter, not as a seasoned politician." Mayor Bob Weldon instructs his chief of staff to watch the YouTube video again. After 1.2 million views in only two weeks, this is the final nail in the coffin. He knows it. But, if he's going to mentor and raise money for him, everybody has to buy into the idea, especially his longtime office leader who has always been cynical. And he knows his friend won't last long in this race without his money-raising machine at work. Still, as crazy as the idea is, after the latest news, Bob knows he needs to groom a replacement, he just never thought it would be him.

The video ends. After two minutes of silence, Jeff Zeigler, his chief of staff finally admits, "Well, you're right. It's inspiring. You can sense his passion and affinity for the city of New York and all it offers. He's charismatic, moving and genuine. But, and I say this dispassionately and without favor, everybody knows him, and not for the right reasons. He's got a past. He's got baggage. Can we really rely on the skeletons of his past not coming back to haunt him? I know he's your friend, but how much do you really know about him?"

"I don't know. But, I'll find out."

The next day, Richard Castle is preparing for his weekly poker game with the boys. Roy Montgomery, Mayor Bob Weldon, James Patterson, Judge Markway and a new guy, someone Gina made him invite to the game although he can't remember his name, will be showing up tonight. Two hours into the game, Bob excuses himself and makes his way to the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later, Bob returns to the table, paler and short on breath.

"Bob, are you alright? You look and sound awful." Rick asks, concern written all over his face. "You've been coughing all night. Are you sick?"

"Fine, just worn out. Meetings and speeches – trying to keep the great citizens of New York happy and healthy- you know how it is." Bob chooses his words carefully, not wanting to alert the others as to his real condition. He glances a look at Rick who is looking at him skeptically.

"Guys, let's call it a night," Rick announces. "I've got a long day tomorrow. Alexis finally comes home from Oxford and I'm scheduled to pick her up early at the airport." Despite the grunts and complaints, everyone finally heads home. Except for Bob.

"Hey Rick. You got a second?"

After cleaning up the poker table and loading the dishwasher, Rick and Mayor Weldon eventually migrate to Rick's office, settling down with matching scotches while sitting across from each other on his sinfully plush leather couch.

After an uncomfortable and unusual silence, Rick breaks the ice. "Bob, cut the crap. I know you've got something on your mind. Is it another donation? You know, I'm always happy to give to your re-election campaign, just tell me what you need." Rick knows his friend. When he wants to talk privately, there is always an agenda. He's known him long enough to sense when something is on his mind. However, this one feels different.

So, he begins. "Rick, I need to ask you something."

For the next ten minutes, Bob Weldon lays it on the line. He's sick. Very sick. He's been diagnosed with leukemia and will not be able to run for re-election. The news has not been made public and he will insist on keeping the diagnosis out of the papers for as long as he can. The treatment alone will keep him out of office for at least a year but he wants his platform and vision to continue on and he wants Rick Castle to carry the torch. He wants Rick Castle to run for mayor of New York. Despite his flabbergasted look, he informs Rick that his latest charity speech (of many) at the Bronx Zoo from two weeks ago now has over a million viewers in only two weeks. Rick spoke with fervor about the need to continue and fund the zoo, how it inspired and continues to inspire so many young New Yorkers (his daughter included), and how it has always defined what is great about the city of New York. He ended his argument to Rick by quoting his final words of the speech. "These animals, just like your children, need this zoo. It isn't only a refuge for endangered species around the world, but for something else endangered. People who care with their time, not just their checkbook." He's probably watched the video a half-dozen times and each time he does, it only reinforces his original opinion.

"Bob, are you drunk? There is no way in hell I can run for mayor. I'm probably the least qualified person you know. I'm single. I'm not a politician. I'm not smart enough. I don't understand and don't want to understand politics. Let me just write you a check, I'm good at that."

"Dad, he's right. You could do it. You'd be great."

Both men turn around at the new voice in the room. Alexis has appeared magically, a beatific smile on her face while leaning against the slightly open door. She walks in, embraces both of them. She extends her condolences to Bob and asks if there is anything she can do. Bob gracefully declines and, after two minutes of hugs and kisses, she finds a spot on the edge of his office desk, facing them both.

"Dad, listen to me. In case you hadn't noticed, your attendance at charity events and fundraisers has become weekly news in the papers ever since you killed Derrick Storm off. And not just page six news, but real news. You didn't sit and wallow in your own misery with writer's block after ending the Storm series, you got off your ass and became the person I know and love. You've become the best advocate for all things New York and your passion for the city translates into your speeches. People now attend these events when they know you're going to speak. The amount of money you've raised is off the charts and all those PR skills you've honed over the years at book signings is now paying off. Other students at Oxford come up to me and ask for your number so their parents can contact you for a speech. YouTube has a specific channel dedicated just for you and your speeches and the combined views for the last year is over 10 million views. Dad, without knowing it, you've become the face of New York. I'm so proud of you. "

"Wow. Where were you three years ago when I was running for re-election? "Bob asks, stunned by Alexis and her maturity.

"In high school," she deadpans.

Rick is in a state of shock. He never thought about a life in politics. First of all, he's single and divorced – and a single parent. He knows his post-divorce years were well=chronicled, almost daily, on page six in the Post. His mother is a well-known Broadway actress renowned for her personality and, frankly, off-stage eccentricities. But, he loves New York. He loves the people, the aura, the history, the potential and the past. No one could ever question that. Anyone that really knows him, the real Rick Castle, knows he is all about New York. However, one question lingers. Would he survive the onslaught into his life and his family? The interviews, the pointed questions, the investigation into every liaison and relationship he ever had. It's too much, he thinks.

"I can help with that." Bob states. Apparently, those internal musings captured his mouth, his latest reservations somehow becoming rhetorical questions out loud.

"But, that's not our biggest problem," both Alexis and Rick turn their head to Bob who finishes his thought, "it's our opponent. Senator Kate Beckett."


	2. Chapter 2

The Race – Chapter 2

I'm officially a loser, Kate Beckett thinks to herself. Ever since being named one of the Ten Most Beautiful People in New York City last year by "L Magazine", State Senator Kate Beckett has been on a series of pointless and high-profile blind dates, most of them set up by her PR director, Nora Carney, who, ironically, can't stand men. Now, after her latest catastrophe, a 26-year old third baseman for the NY Mets who won the 2017 National League MVP and raised $5 million dollars for Autism Speaks because of his afflicted younger brother, she decides she's given up on men. She just hung up on Nora, reminding her again to actually set her up with men who aren't gay.

"How would I know that?" Nora pleads. "He's so sweet, loves his brother, and is always on Page Six with models and actors. Aren't all male athletes drooling to meet tall, beautiful women? He even asked for you specifically." Nora has run out of excuses and decides to limit the damage by shutting up.

"It took him five minutes", she exclaimed. She really doesn't want to re-imagine it.

"Nora, the first thing he said to me at dinner, after pulling my chair out for me, which was a first by the way, was 'Thanks for agreeing to see me. My partner wasn't sure you would agree to this but I'm grateful. Even though I'm not "out", most folks know. It's tough, in my profession, to be gay but I'm doing this for my brother. Thanks.'

Now, two hours later, she sits on her couch in NYPD sweats with a mound of notes from the latest Senate Appropriations minutes to sift through, wondering if this version of her life was her calling. She closes her eyes and lolls her head back on the couch. Her phone rings. Who could it be now?

 _ **Six weeks later**_ …

"Senator Beckett, you won't believe this! You won't believe this! You've got to see this," her newest intern, Scarlett, is way too eager for seven thirty in the morning. The girl is literally sprinting down the hallway to her office before she suddenly disappears from view. When does she sleep? Does she? Did she go home last night? Are there bedrooms in this office somewhere? As she continues her internal dialogue, a screech interrupts her thoughts.

"What the hell! Ow! Who put that there?" Scarlett stands up, rubbing her head and turning around in a 360, looking for an unseen culprit. Apparently, her new intern tripped over an invisible thread in the carpet and did a header into the office wall. Interns. She hasn't even finished her first cup of coffee and, for the life of her, a face plant into the carpet still hasn't dulled Scarlett's enthusiasm.

"Senator Beckett, did you see this?" she holds up a press release as if it's made of gold while simultaneously rubbing her already turning red forehead and entering her office.

"First of all, Scarlett, are you alright? You nearly took out two security officers, my bodyguard, and a bank of windows with your tumble. If you're going to run in this office, try and find some heels less than four inches otherwise I'm going to have to increase my insurance policy." Kate does her best to soothe the intern's clear embarrassment.

"Yes ma'am, Senator Beckett. I'm sorry." No sarcasm received. She's really got to have more meetings with her younger staff. Just because her signature look always includes heels and the latest in 5th Avenue custom business suits doesn't mean her staff has to imitate her. For another time. Anyway, let's see what Scarlett found out.

"Richard Castle. Freaking Richard Castle!" the girl is still screaming, holding papers aloft much like a winning lottery ticket.

"What about Richard Castle, Scarlett? Are you dating him? Did you two match on Tinder?" Kate goes for light, knowing full well what Scarlett is about to tell her. If there is anything politics has taught her, it's never be surprised. Sources (her Dad) have already informed her that Rick Castle is Mayor Weldon's new protégé, an A-list fundraiser with a passion for New York that Bob Weldon somehow convinced to run against her. Not to mention her favorite author.

"What? No! Senator Beckett, I would never. Alexis and I went to high school together, he's like, like ancient. Ma'am, I would never betray you that way, my loyalty is for this program and I would never…"

"Scarlett, I'm joking. Try and relax." Her intern needs some blood pressure medication or a shot of tequila or a boyfriend, she can't figure out which. Clearly, the latter. Again, for another time.

"But, did you know Richard Castle is running for mayor against you? He's officially a candidate and, according to morning polls, he's running dead even with you. The NY Times poll shows he's got almost 50% of the vote. He's charming, passionate, good-looking and single. Writes great books, has a ton of money and is single. Wait, how many times did I just say he was single?"

"Twice. Thank you, Scarlett, I'm aware of his candidacy and will continue to monitor his progress. You can go now. Please update me as to his polling numbers as you receive them." Scarlett leaves with a slight limp, leaving Kate with a wry grin on her face. Interns.

The truth is, her Dad called her about six weeks ago and informed her that a source of his let slip that Bob Weldon would not be running for re-election. She was not surprised; two consecutive terms would wear anyone out (mostly the voters) and this was her time. It didn't matter who the opponent was, this was her time, for a variety of reasons. The ennui that came with being a NY State Senator, the inability to navigate the "red tape" that came with politics and the compromises she was forced to make for her residents was more than she could stomach. She represented the Southern District of Manhattan for better or worse. But she wasn't making a difference.

She grew up in New York, the youngest police captain in NYPD history, a lifelong resident and ardent supporter of the city and a rising star in the NY State Senate. Her accomplishments over the last six years in the Senate were both noteworthy and newsworthy, with many folks calling her name as the newest rising star in New York politics. She gave powerful speeches about the sanctity of her constituents, their right to personal safety and freedom to live life without fear. She roundly proclaimed that New Yorkers earned and deserved that liberty, the liberty to live without fear. As Governor, she knew she couldn't focus enough energy on her true calling, the citizens of New York City. The same city that took her mother, that lay claim to countless lives while she was a Homicide Detective. She wanted to be mayor.

Rick Castle, despite how sweet and lovely she remembered him from that night ten years ago, was simply in her way. No matter how she felt, it didn't matter now, he was merely an obstacle.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 _Good evening everyone, welcome to WABC News at 7pm, I'm Jack Morton. Tonight, the first mayoral debate between Senator Kate Beckett and celebrity author Richard Castle is just moments away and we're here to preview the event. Unless you've been hiding out in another country, you are probably aware the hype for this debate is like none we've ever seen in New York. Two telegenic, articulate, and wildly popular mayoral candidates are gunning for the job of mayor of the greatest city in the world and there is not a scandal in sight. Gone are the days of mudslinging and personal attacks, vicious innuendo about past missteps of relationships gone wrong, only august campaigning about the validity of their respective view for the future of New York City. Polls have these two candidates virtually even, separated by mere fractions of the popular vote. Both of their camps have been unusually silent about their respective platforms, each showing remarkable professionalism and détente in the midst of the closest mayoral race in the history of our great city. For more on the upcoming debate, let's hear from Maria Villanueva, who's live at the Waldorf-Astoria…_

"Kate. Kate? Are you here?' her father Jim Beckett asks. Both are sitting backstage on folding chairs in an open area behind curtains, not an aide or chief of staff in sight. Five minutes before showtime. She is staring into space, looking at the curtains hiding the stage, with a contemplative almost serene look on her face. She startles, finally stares back at her Dad. "What? Did you ask me something?"

"I did. What are you thinking about? Are you OK? Do you want some water?" She doesn't answer, only continues to look at him like he's not even here. He's starting to worry whether the stress of the last six months is finally hitting her – she's usually so tenacious concerning public speaking that he rarely worries. This time seems different.

"Dad, I'm fine. I was… just thinking about Mom. I think she would be proud of me. And sad for me." Jim looks confused, not sure what to say. Sad is the last word he would think Johanna would say about their daughter considering everything she has accomplished over the last 10 years. "I know what you're thinking, how could she be sad? But, do you remember when I was 10 years old and Mom screamed at the TV for hours after Ed Koch became mayor, claiming this city needed someone who felt for the people and lived their lives with them? That all New Yorkers deserved a leader born here, grew up here, lived here and breathed everything the city has to offer. That memory has always stuck in my mind and somehow, someway, it feels like that's what has been propelling me for the last ten years. To get to this point – to become her idol. To fulfill her wishes."

"Oh, Katie," he sighed, with a heavy heart. "I've no doubt Mom is both smiling and laughing while consistently abusing all other patrons of Heaven with stories about little Katie Beckett. Who you are, who you've become, and more importantly, who you stand for, is greater than any parent could ever ask of a child. Win or lose this race, I'm so proud of you I can hardly put it into words. But you mentioned, that she would be sad for you. Why would you say that?"

Kate flattens her beautiful pearl-colored blouse down her chest, buying time before she answers. Her navy suit jacket hangs on a chair beside her, almost willing her to don it. In time, she thinks. I need to get this out. "Dad, I'm alone. What I gave up when I went into politics was my friends – Espo, Ryan, Gates, Lanie – and they've continued on with their lives and look at them now. Sure, they're happy for me and I constantly hear from them about happenings in their lives, but it's not the same. They are moving on, living their lives. Ryan and Jenny have two beautiful daughters, Lanie and Espo are engaged and expecting their first child and even Gates has a granddaughter now. What do I have? If anyone bothered to look, on any random weekday night at 9pm, they would find me sitting on my couch, alone, reading budgets, staring at poll numbers and watching movies. By myself. On the weekends, despite what the papers and media say, I'm at a campaign event with a man I've never met before that night, smiling and laughing at fictitious people and invisible jokes. Dad, the image of me in the media as a successful, satisfied, actualized woman is a joke. The reality is…Dad, I'm 38 years old and I'm alone. I realized early on that there was sacrifice that came with being a politician and I was OK with that. Then. Now, I'm not sure it's worth it. Did I give up too much of my life trying to live Mom's dreams?" She buried her head in her hands, trying to keep the tears at bay. Still, she continued, "Dad, I want to be in love. I want to have children. I want to be married. I want…I want.." she paused, catching her breath, then continuing, "I want a real life. A real man. A real family. Something real, like you and Mom. Dad, I'm so scared that it's too late for all that. That the machine of getting me elected will keep me from any real chance to have that. If I win this election, I'll be in my mid-40's before my term runs out. By then, my chances for children will be zero. I'm actually scared of winning this election".

Jim lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. He looks up to the sky, searching for guidance, but forges on, "Katie, I had no idea. I always wanted grandchildren but I didn't live or die every day with your choices. If you never a child, I was fine with it. Recent awakenings have taught me to take life one day at a time, and I value that sentiment. I love you Katie, no matter where your life takes you. I hope you know that." Jim keeps his eyes directly on hers, willing her to understand and believe that fulfillment and satisfaction from life always comes from within.

"Dad, I know you love me. I do. But…" she doesn't know how to say this. She can feel tears coming on, unsure how to continue. Her Dad is the last person she thought she would have this conversation with, especially two minutes before her first mayoral debate. Well, nothing like the truth. "Dad, in the last ten years, I've had one meaningful relationship where I really connected with another man and that only lasted a few weeks. Since then, I've never been engaged by any man who made me feel what he did. I gave everything I had into my relationship with both Josh and with Will, however, nothing compared to the connection I felt with him. Eventually, I gave up on the idea of true love and focused on my career. The man of my past got married, had a child, and I gave up on the ideal of true love." For the next few seconds, she stared at the ceiling and, after willing the tears at bay, Kate rose and grabbed her jacket, effectively putting her game face back on. Time to debate. She started to say goodbye to her Dad before he interrupted her musings.

"Katie, how do you know so much about this man?"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Hey Pumpkin, which one do you think?" he's staring at his reflection in the dressing room mirror, holding two nearly identical red ties up to the lapel on his dark blue suit.

"The one in your left hand. Much more stylish." Rick agrees and begins tying the knot.

"Dad, stop, undo the tie, we can't use that knot." Rick looks at her with a frown, confused. He's about to make a joke concerning her age and his vast experience with ties but instantly notices Alexis has her "finals face" on. In other words, do not even dare to argue with me about this subject.

"For the record Dad, all future television appearances require a Windsor Knot, not your usual half-Windsor or four-in-the-hand knot. That means we're going to need longer ties as well. Let me make a quick note of that." Alexis pulls out her phone, sends herself and Chief of Staff Zeigler a quick message and then resumes her speech. "The Windsor knot projects confidence and competence and every little bit will help tonight - you're certainly going to need it old man." He feigns a heart attack, dramatically sighing as he drops to a knee.

"Et tu, Alexis? Et tu?"

"You'll survive." Alexis laughs loudly and heartedly, music to Rick's ears. Mission accomplished. He knows how important the election has become to Alexis – she decided to take a year away from Oxford and become his Campaign Director - a job she was born for. Still, the stress of working 18 hours a day combined with emotional turmoil in her own personal life has taken its toll. She looks exhausted.

"Back to the subject. Dad, I say this with all seriousness as your Campaign Director and all compassion and love as the prized heir to your vast fortune but..."

"Why do I get the feeling my ego is about to be knocked down a peg or two?" he smiles, knowing a punchline is coming.

"Will there be any more interruptions?" she deadpans, and he reflexively shakes his head, the banter so familiar and predictable.

Alexis continues on. "As your daughter, it is my duty to inform you that, for the first time in your adult life, you are…are…"

"Spit it out"

"Going to have to face the fact that you will not be the NOT the prettiest person on stage." She lets out a deep breath and dramatically wipes her brow. "Wow, that was harder than I thought it would be."

"Thank you for telling me Alexis, I know that was very difficult for you" he winks, sharing a smile with her. "You must know, though, that I already came to that conclusion. A long time ago. Therefore, I've decided to not even try and fight the war on that front; a smart warrior knows to pick his battles. I'm going to win the voters with my charm. What do you think of that?" He looks at her with mock seriousness.

"I thought you said a smart warrior." Alexis has a little more Martha-esque flair than she would care to admit.

"Ouch. Any more words of wisdom for your dear old Dad? Please be gentle, my vanity and well-being are at stake here." Rick know Alexis is sincerely trying to make a point so he'll let her.

"Dad, when we started this campaign, all of us agreed that attacking Kate Beckett's personal life would boomerang back on us in the worst way, she's nearly flawless professionally, and her backstory is tragic. Instead, we decided to focus on the issues. There are enough differences in your priorities for the city that we could certainly make our case to the voters using that approach."

"Right, I remember. So, dear daughter, how does that influence my behavior during this debate?"

"It doesn't change our overall tactics but I have a suggestion. Be even more gracious and supportive of her than you have been on the campaign trail. When there is an opportunity, agree with her passion for the city, her regard for the citizens and simply point out, when possible, there is a distinction between priorities. You've been clear on the need for continued funding of the arts, the park systems, the necessary vision of New York as the cultural center of the world whereas she's been much more pragmatic – emphasizing added funding for the police and fire departments, road and transportation improvements and additional financial support for teachers. Neither of you are wrong, all of those are important for our city. Don't argue with her. Ever. Smile and support. Smile and support."

Now is the time, he figures. It's as good a time as ever. She deserves to know the truth, he owes her that much.

"Alexis, I need to tell you something. Both as a Dad and candidate for Mayor, there is some information you need to know." He looks at her reflection in the mirror and realizes he made a mistake and should've disclosed this before. Well, spilled milk.

"Alexis, sit down." She does and recognizes his serious voice. He's got a confession to make and she's all ears. "Kate and I met before, ten years ago, in a non-official way. We were friends for a while, you might say. We met in the Hamptons, during summer break. You were visiting your Mom in California, Mother was well, occupied somewhere, and I was smarting from my divorce from Gina. Kate was recovering from the sniper attack at her Captain's funeral and we met at a coffee shop in town and something just clicked. We shared our personal stories and hit it off. We spent three glorious weeks together, licking our wounds together, somehow bringing both of us back to life." He exhales, aware that for the first time, he has allowed himself to remember that summer.

"Oh my god. Dad, why didn't you tell me before? I would've understood." After a brief pause, she reverts back into professional mode. "Does anyone else know this? It's important that you tell me, just in case the public somehow gets wind of this and I need to be prepared."

"I doubt it Pumpkin. It would've come out prior to this if anyone in her camp knew and, trust me, you and I are the only ones that know on our side." He thinks maybe her Dad might know and, from what he knows of him personally, discretion is Jim Beckett personified. "Anyway, she went back work, the Nikki Heat books began flying off the shelves and we haven't met or talked sense. I must confess, though, that I've been following her in the papers this whole time."

"Dad! Hold on, I'm not sure I can wrap my mind around this. Are you telling me that the inspiration for the four Nikki Heat books you wrote, which have sold nearly twenty million copies worldwide, is your opponent in the race for Mayor of New York City, State Senator Kate Beckett?" Alexis is in shock. Nothing her Dad could've said five minutes ago could compare to this bombshell – it's nearly impossible to fathom.

"Yes, Alexis, that's what I'm telling you."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 _AU – First of all, thanks to everyone who has been following this story, it's certainly been a work in progress. A few corrections and amendments. When I first outlined this story, it was not canon. Since this is my first fanfiction, I was unaware of the need to clarify the AU separation, I will do this now._

 _In this story, the Nikki Heat series was written and published before Derrick Storm._

 _In a previous chapter, I mentioned that Castle "had" a child during his ten-year hiatus from originally meeting Kate until now. The verb tense was wrong, that was supposed to be "had" a child, sorry for the confusion. Also, some reviewers have expressed disbelief that Kate, as a State Senator, would actually aspire to be Mayor of New York City rather than continue along her present path. While I appreciate that perspective, it's difficult to believe that the position of Mayor of New York City is in anyway a step down from State Senator. Just my two cents. Now, on with the story…_

 **A voice rings out from the PA system in the auditorium. Ten-minute call for both candidates…ten minutes.**

"Alright, Katie, you've got ten minutes. Give yourself some time to collect your thoughts. We'll disappear from view, enjoy the silence. Gather your thoughts and calm your nerves.

She hesitates, unsure what exactly she should do. "Go ahead, Katie, we'll be waiting for you when it's over. Remember, he's just a man. Scared, like you are. Give him a fair amount of rope and he'll do two things – hang himself or give you enough slack to pull him back in," Jim Beckett urges his daughter into the arena, curtains still drawn and darkness surrounding her.

She turns around quickly. "Dad, thank you for being here and for being my rock for the last decade. When Mom was here, I never fully appreciated how much influence you had on me…until now. She was certainly my confidante and friend and I probably felt more comfortable telling her things instead of you but you were always my idol. Unintentionally, I think every man in my past failed because they could never measure up to my vision of you." He falters, a response on his lips. "Dad, don't. I didn't mean it that way." Tears fill her eyes, amazed at her confession. "Just understand that I love you and I'm sorry I can't put into words exactly how much it means to me. What I really mean Dad, is that I'm glad you're here." A kiss on the cheek and then she disappears into obscurity.

 _ **Across the stage…**_

"Dad, it's time." Alexis gently pushes him forward. "Go. Remember what we talked about - be nice, and sweet. Take these ten minutes of quiet time to focus on your talking points and just relax. The citizens of New York City are already proud of you – at least of half of them – and now is your chance to charm the other half. You've got this. I love you Dad, you'll be great." Alexis beams with delight, so happy for the man her Dad has become. Tears shade her eyes and she turns away, overcome with familial pride. Martha slowly emerges from the shadows with a gentle hug, slowly turning Alexis back to the shadows, allowing her son his moment.

Rick Castle walks forward, unsure of what he's about to see. It's been over a decade since Kate Beckett actually graced him with her presence, a carnal visage he still hasn't forgot. Butterflies consume his stomach… will she even remember him? Does she still care? He starts walking towards the stage and shoves his hand back into his pants pocket, carefully fingering the gift he's been waiting ten years to give her.

She sees his journey begin to the curtains, unaware of her presence and the first thing she notices is his suit, dapper and form-fitting, a beautiful navy blue that compliments the cobalt of his eyes, still so mesmerizing and exquisite. Her stomach erupts, long-lost emotions consuming her, forcing an exhale she didn't realize she'd been holding. After a deep, carefully hidden breath, she concludes honestly that he's quite a beautiful man. Instantly, upon seeing her, he angles his stride towards her and beams a smile that she knows is only for her. One hand in his pocket, the other extended towards her, he voices, "Hey Kate. You look beautiful. Always." She smiles with knowledge that his words are genuine. Her heart stops. Ten years ago, he woke her up every day with those same words. He never forgot.

Aware that they no longer have an audience, Kate steps forward, hand extended. "Hey Rick. It's been a long time." They shake hands and for Kate, time stops. With one touch of his hand, she's instantly transformed back to their beginning in the Hamptons – an awkward, coffee shop chance meeting that eventually evolved into idyllic, dreamlike weeks of sand and sun coupled with nights of therapeutic walks and passionate love consuming her imagination.

"Too long, Kate, wouldn't you agree?" he tries desperately to hide the bitterness he feels. Their final days are still something he's never fully come to terms with. It was too abrupt, too stilted and too quick; as if their beautiful, possible, life was arrested by fate and ultimately condemned them to their current, respective fates. Still, he now understands the "why" and the "when" that came with her departure – Cole Maddux had been arrested and was willing to talk – so he no longer holds a grudge.

"Rick, I agree, it's been way too long." She senses his implication, aware that an explanation for those final days is way overdue, an explanation she's been rehearsing for a decade. "I wish we had more time today. You should know that there wasn't a single day over the last ten years that I didn't feel overwhelming regret for how I left things with us. It was completely my fault and I owe you so much more than just a perfunctory response considering the depth of emotion I felt for you then and…still feel for you now. For everything you did for me back then." She takes a breath, looks away from his captivating eyes to the floor and captures her thoughts.

"You came into my life when I needed you the most. Everything I've accomplished since then, at the NYPD and the Senate, is entirely and wholeheartedly because of the life you infused back into me. You resuscitated me back into life and there aren't enough days left in my life to explain to you properly how important you were. I've…I've missed you."

Rick is at a loss for words, staring at the most beautiful woman he's ever met, listening to her regrets. He starts to respond, a carefully rehearsed display he's practiced into the mirror for as long as he can remember. "Kate, thank you for saying that. It truly means a lot. Forever, after you left, I felt like maybe I misread the situation, maybe I felt more than you did and so I rehashed those days over and over in my mind for what seemed like an eternity, trying to pick apart what I did wrong to make you run away. I…"

 **The loudspeaker announces, "Two-minute call for both candidates…two minutes."**

Both stare at each other, fully aware their solitude is possibly interrupted for a very long time. Neither wants to voice the obvious, that an opened curtain featuring two ill-fated lovers gazing at each other with stars in their eyes will not help either cause. Kate looks away, breaks first.

"Rick, I think it's time we go. Just so you know, I want to thank you for everything, physically and otherwise that you gave me those weeks. After I left you, even when you weren't present, I never forgot your passion, love and confidence in me – especially when I had none to believe in. You gave me hope when there was none. I owe you everything Rick." Kate hopes her words sink in and truly reflect her emotions.

"Kate, I didn't do anything you wouldn't have done on your own – in time." Kate begins to reply but Rick cuts her off. "You know I'm right. With your brains, wit, passion and beauty, the world was your oyster. All I did was remind you of those qualities and show you that darkness wasn't your only option. Now, the city of New York believes and endorses all those beautiful talents I saw ten years ago." He pulls a long black box from his pocket and hands it to her. "This is yours. I bought it for you all those years ago but, unfortunately, never got a chance to give it to you." Her long, slender fingers gracefully accept the box, tears now falling for the first time, regretting all those lost years.

A beautiful, white gold, diamond tennis bracelet is looking back at her. As she turns it over, carefully examining it for what she feels like is the first and last time before she returns it, undeserving of the prize, she notices the inscription, written on the underside of the bracelet.

'To Kate – I love you. Always.'

 **f**


	6. Chapter 6

_We now turn our attention and cameras over to Luis Altuve of NPR New York, moderator of tonight's debate._

" _Thank you, Jack. Again, I'm Luis Altuve, co-host of New York Today on FM 88.3, NPR for New York City, your moderator for tonight's debate. I'm honored to host tonight's New York City mayoral debate and, without further ado, popularity notwithstanding, let's get started. Based on what I've seen and heard over the last six weeks, it would be silly to ignore the obvious; these are some of the most popular mayoral candidates our fair city has seen in decades and could inflame crowds, but, in fairness to the purpose of tonight's debate, let's allow them some rope. For the record, these are the rules. First, opening statements from both candidates, beginning with Senator Beckett, and then four sets of questions from our guest moderators and then closing statements. To the overflow crowd here, please control your enthusiasm and allow the candidates ample opportunity to speak without interruption. If there is one thing I know about us New Yorkers is that we always play fair, right?"_ The crowd murmurs silently and anxiously awaits the beginning.

" _Senator Beckett, you will begin first. Your opening statement please_." Kate turns to the camera, smiles, and begins.

"First of all, before I get into the issues facing our fair city, I would like to acknowledge my opponent, Richard Castle, and his clear and unbridled commitment to the city of New York. As someone who grew up in the city and considers herself a lifelong New Yorker, it's heartening to know someone else cares just as ardently about our future." She turns, looking directly at him. "We may not agree on everything but I've never doubted your love for the City, Mr. Castle." Knowing that national cameras are following her every move, she still reflexively begins fingering the bracelet she newly donned, turning once again and smiling at him with "his" smile, a mix of lips and teeth and hazel/green eyes that never leave him.

Gathering her thoughts, she continues on, gives Rick a quick, sly glance and continues, "Based on polls from last night, Mr. Castle and I are basically even. Clearly, he cares about you citizens and your lives or he would not be standing here. He's a charismatic, vibrant public speaker and clearly "must-see-TV." She stops, wonders whether she's blathering or should she keep going. She remembers something Rick said to her ten years ago – when she was debating whether to keep searching for her Mom's killer -the truth solves everything.

"I must confess that, like many of you, I've been a fan of his novels for many years and think his books hold a special place in our cultural lexicon. However, and I say this with all due respect for his passion for New York, we feel differently about what is important for our future. Unlike Mr. Castle, I've been clear that my platform prioritizes teachers, police officers, firefighters and our personal safety, in no particular order, without question."

"These elemental liberties are essential rights, due to each of you simply for being a citizen of New York and the USA. This is not up for debate; these truths are unquestioned." Kate's voice raises, her focus becoming the camera and her audience – no one will ever argue her fervor. This is her moment and she won't lose the opportunity to drive her point home. "Each of you deserve a loyal public servant, someone not swayed by PACS or political favors, a mayor who grew up here, lives here, breathes here every day and will die here. I am you. Every one of you. I will live my life being the best Mayor of New York City and I promise, I won't let you down." Kate stares at the camera, holds the center of the lens, and smiles.

" _Thank you, Senator Beckett, for your opening statement."_ Jack Morton trails off, gesturing up to Rick Castle that he should begin."

" _Mr. Castle, your opening statement please. You have four minutes."_

"Thank you Mr. Morton, fellow moderators, and all fellow New Yorkers in attendance. He dramatically sighs, looks exasperated and gracefully admits, "Wow, how do you follow that?" the audience laughs as does Kate Beckett, covering her mouth shyly. She looks away and down, downplaying the attention away from her, gently recognizing the diamond bracelet once again. Knowing the crowd and cameras are now hypnotized by Rick, she slowly turns it over again and re-reads the inscription. 'To Kate, I love you. Always.' It still turns her stomach and nearly brings tears to her eyes. Again. How can one man, who she hasn't seen in ten years, still flip her insides with just one gift and genuine, caring words? She concludes, quite honestly, this is love. She's in love and has been, unknowingly, for over a decade. Why didn't someone tell her?


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"… _And a warm round of applause is due our candidates for that enlightening and honest debate, we sincerely thank them for their preparation and resolve in light of a long, arduous campaign. Good night to all, I'm Jack Morton, and that concludes tonight's debate. Thank you to Mr. Altuve from NPR and our other guest moderators."_ Both Kate and Rick leave their respective podiums and walk towards each other to the center of the stage, hands extended.

With a warm handshake and a clinical, innocent hug, Kate begins first, knowing cameras are focused on the silent interaction between the two.

"Rick, you did great. I'm seriously impressed." Hands still intact, she looks to the camera, smiles graciously for the cameras and then turns her attention back to Rick. "I know I'm going to regret giving your ego any inflation but I have a question. About ten years ago, if I recall correctly, you once bragged to me - when you were trying to seduce me on our second coffee date in the Hamptons- that you could speed read at 125 words per minute. Something about a brilliant mind and unappreciated intelligence, right?" He smiles, wonders where she's going with this.

"Well, I think it finally paid off, didn't it? All those statistics you gave during the second rebuttal about conviction rates for the NYPD and budgetary overages for the Attorney General through me for a loop. How did you possibly remember that, or was Alexis in your ear feeding you those numbers?" She smiles like a Cheshire Cat, knows she's playing with fire by silently acknowledging their relationship on national television, despite the lack of microphones. Lip readers could probably decipher what was said but she doesn't care. Truthfully, he excites her on so many different levels that she can't help herself.

"First of all, before I answer your question Kate, I have a confession. Despite our audience doing their best to interpret our professional relationship by mere body language and smile wattage, I'm going to profess something you probably already know." He pauses, realizes he's taking a great risk.

"You are still the most beautiful woman I've ever seen and not a day has gone by that letting you go isn't still my biggest regret. I miss your smile, your laugh and brain. Not to mention your body." Rick winks, waggles his eyebrows and turns, plastering a fake smile for the cameras, simulating a throw-away joke that she easily plays along with. He takes a deep breath and plunges into the deep water - it's now or never – so here he goes.

"Kate, I know this isn't the time or place… but I'm not sure there will be another opportunity anytime soon." He lowers his voice and silently pleads for her undivided attention. She turns back to him and hears the wistful tone in his voice. She stares and he continues, "Later tonight, after your staff has summarized tonight's event, given you the latest post-debate poll numbers and finished analyzing every talking point from our encounter, I want you to do something for me."

"Crawl into bed, take your makeup off, relax under the covers and text me. Just say 'I'm free' and give me a few minutes to get situated. I desperately want some alone time to reconnect with you and talk without an audience. Seeing you and touching you is turning my stomach upside down and I have so much I want to say. Is that OK?" He wonders if he's overstepped, pushed her too much.

His words freeze her and still her frame. Her newly held diamond bracelet is staring back at her, his permanently etched, intimate words ringing loudly in her mind, infusing her body with a long-lost sensation. It's love, she admits. It has to be. There is no other explanation for her current state of mind. Inwardly, she suddenly realizes that all the heroines of all the books she's ever read, most notably Elizabeth Bennet of Pride and Prejudice (which she just finished, for the third-time last week), are all subject to this same indescribable feeling she's experiencing – a simultaneous combination of wonder and awe. Almost instantly, she's aware of the cameras, knows the implications of any perceived misstep, but, truthfully, she doesn't care. Her body and heart betray her. She squeezes his hand warmly, briefly puts a soft hand on his chest and looks lovingly at him, truly holding long-held tears back and releases his hands.

"Stop that. You're not playing fair." She looks intently at him, wags her finger towards him like a 2nd-grade teacher punishing a student and says quietly, under her breath, "Rick, if we're going to have any chance at continuing this conversation beyond just tonight, then I can't give the press any ammunition. Like you, there is so much I want to say as well. As for now, let's both leave this debate with our dignities intact, okay?"

Before Kate turns to the crowd, waves, and exits stage left, she whispers, "About 1am. Sound good?"

Rick beams, does a mental hopscotch, and then gracefully smiles to the crowd. He bows and slowly leaves the stage. Before he's even three steps out of the spotlight, he faces another pleading face.

"Dad, what was that?" Alexis is looking at him curiously, an unspoken question on her lips. Her countenance is a battle of creased forehead lines and downturned lips. Something is not right with her Dad and she thinks she know why.

"What was what?" he asks innocently.

She looks down, gathers her thoughts, and replies plainly and simply, "Dad, I realize my original advice was to be nice, graceful and supportive of Senator Beckett and her plans for the City because we didn't want any repercussions by appearing too harsh or combative but still…" she takes a breath, clearly out of sorts. She has to get this out.

"Still, that didn't mean to throw away the entire debate! She gave you at least four different chances to rebut her with clear, decisive, emotionally-packed comebacks – most notoriously the last one regarding NYPD funding. Senator Beckett, probably unintentionally, implied that she would borrow budget money from Medicaid funding for seniors to allow a pay increase for cops! Even though that is not part of her basic platform, it was still a mistake. An obvious, national TV mistake, that you should've jumped on! We specifically talked about this exact subject!" she retorts, clearly upset with his tenacity – or lack thereof.

"You allowed your personal feelings for her to get in the way, didn't you? You let Senator Beckett get away with it because you couldn't bear the thought of actually hurting her." Rick turns away, remembers the dialogue and turns towards a now empty stage and closes his eyes and knows she's right. Alexis, unfazed by his silence, continues.

"Dad, what you really accomplished was something entirely different - you completely saddened and disillusioned a staff of 10 full-time employees plus nearly 50 plus volunteers who have been working day and night for your candidacy? They're going to want answers." He doesn't answer, shock his overwhelming emotion and stares back at his daughter, still entranced in a love-soaked daze.

She looks at the wounded expression on his face, his clear distraught visible at hurting her and his entire staff and realizes that he has a lot to answer for. She sees his face, softens visibly, and suddenly recognizes the precarious position she's put herself in. What role does she assume next, Campaign Director or Daughter?


	8. Chapter 8

It isn't until he finally arrives home, after a quick getaway involving limos and his mother assuming her divine role as temporary press secretary (which she instinctively, almost genetically, seized hold of) that the impact of his performance tonight finally sinks in. He blew it. He allowed a dalliance from ten years ago with a beautiful woman to compromise all he holds dear about the city of New York. Alexis. His staff. The energetic volunteers working day and night for his campaign with no pay and even less reassurance. He disappointed all of them, single-handedly, in one night.

His head drops to his chest and he slowly begins a unique walk of shame, away from his kitchen. Instinctively, an emotion he rarely admits – shame – engulfs him. Some mayor he'd make. He drifts back to his bedroom, grudgingly, and sluggishly changes his clothes. After he checks a few texts from Weldon and Patterson who ignorantly congratulate him for a job well done, he then despairingly situates himself into his office chair to check online feedback about tonight.

Minutes later, staring out the window at the city he loves, horns blaring and beautiful city lights changing by the minute, he realizes the gravity of the situation. Despite all the speeches and campaign promises he made to his supporters and constituents about changing the status quo for the future of New York voters, he fell victim to his own emotions. Kate Beckett, a love and life he never thought possible, re-emerged and threw him for a loop. A serious loop.

Alexis was right, he should've catapulted himself into the limelight as the favorite in this mayoral race with those opportunities for rebuttal but something just didn't click. But why? Why didn't he recognize them? He prides himself on rigorous research for his books and has thrown his full energy into the campaign with the same fervor but what did he miss? Even though he was prepared for her presence, those opportunities she gave him should've have presented themselves with clarity unless…no, it hits him. Hard.

She gave him those. She threw him a 3-0 fastball (several, in fact) down the middle of the plate and gave him a chance to swing for the fences…but he whiffed. He had the bat in his hand, tied 1-1 in the bottom of the ninth and struck out. The overwhelming finality of the occasion hits him hard, as if the bat he should've held has begun swinging for his head. Swat. Swat. His instinctive need to apologize to Alexis then overpowers him, has him reaching instantly for his phone. On cue, his phone suddenly beeps and startles him out of his stupor.

 _ **Rick, are you there? I know I'm late, it's almost 1:30, but I wanted to finish our conversation tonight. Or start it.**_

Wow, he almost forgot his request of her after the debate. She actually came through. He didn't hesitate.

 _ **I'm here. Amazed that you called. Or, I mean, texted**_ __

 _ **Why wouldn't I? I said that I would.**_

He's thrown by her audacity and honesty and loves her even more for it.

 _ **I have a question. A serious one. Don't be mad but I must know the truth. Why in the world did you give me those chances tonight? Alexis said I missed golden opportunities to win the race, much less the debate, tonight.**_

He hopes, even prays, that she takes this the right way. She's always been honorable about her life and never a woman to shrink away from the truth, even when it doesn't suit her.

 _ **Let's just say I've spent the last hour (plus) trying to explain it to my staff. It didn't go well. My poor intern Scarlett is probably still crying and I think they wheeled her away in a gurney**_ __ _ **Really, I don't have a good answer. I think my heart got in the way. I knew what to say but I just couldn't.**_

Wow, that was honest, he thinks. Her folks must have really cornered her if she's that distraught. Still, he presses on.

 _ **Why?**_

He sees the balloon on his phone indicating that she's typing an answer, an answer he's not sure he wants to hear.

 _ **Why what? Why did I throw away a dream that my mother and I cherished for years, even decades, for a man I haven't seen in a decade? Is that what you're asking?**_

He's unsure what to say. Uncharacteristically he remains silent for a good minute, contemplating the appropriate response, secure in the knowledge that platitudes and apologies are unnecessary – or even helpful. After spending several days and nights wrapped in each other's arms, cocooned in a nest of safety and freedom which bore heartfelt admissions and tearful longing, his lasting memory of Kate Beckett is still, even to this day, a smile-inducing pang of happiness and outright giddiness. He knows her. Knows her need for directness and honesty. Too many people have lied to her face just to protect her heart. Hopefully, he also knows what to say right now…the truth. Or at least, his truth.

 _ **No. I'm asking why you left me alone in the Hamptons without even a word or apology. Did our time together not mean as much to you as it did to me? You're too hard to read and words have never been your forte (your words, not mine). I know it was only three weeks but, Kate, I…lo-**_

He hits 'send' before he can edit the last line. Dammit. He deletes that admission, pressure on her is not a good tactic at this time. Better to be prudent. He forges on – God, he hopes this isn't too much for her to hear.

 _ **I really cared about you and suddenly you were gone. It was like those three weeks meant nothing to you. I know – at least now- that you heard about your mother's case while we were together but, really, ten years? And then nothing.**_

A minute lapses, his breath in his throat and still, no response. Maybe, just like a decade ago, he scared her off. It's always been his tell. It's a need for words, a linguistic explanation of feelings that a body just doesn't produce on its own. A need for confirmation that he wasn't alone in this surreal, miraculous reality. As always, he's pressed too hard for something, anything, to console his aching heart – a breathy sigh, an unannounced convulsion, a single tear – evidence that he wasn't alone in this. A human lighthouse, a beacon in the dark night of the sea to give his ship a vector to follow so that he could avoid the rocks protecting the shore.

After five minutes of unabashed fragility, waiting for an answer he ultimately realizes won't come, he finally rises and brushes his teeth and settles into bed. As he's entered the hazy fugue of sleep and dreams, a text finally comes through which he doesn't see until the morning…

 _ **Rick? Are you there? I need you to do something for me. Drop out of the race.**_


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

 _Thanks again to all of you following this story, I've had a great time playing with these characters and changing them around for a new story, hopefully an interesting one. A few corrections. After re-reading this story, I erroneously included Roy Montgomery as a member of the poker game in Chapter 1, clearly he was the captain I referred to that was slain ten years ago in Kate's backstory. In this AU world, he's dead. My mistake. Also, the Cole Maddux reference was simply designed to be a brief glimpse into the case of Johanna Beckett's murder – not the ultimate resolution. And on we go…_

It's 7am and Kate Beckett is restless, unsure what to do with her hands. Alternately, she turns on the TV (ugh, talking heads dissecting the debate and championing and churning her performance), turns it off, puts her hair in a ponytail, undoes it, grabs a Nikki Heat novel and tries to read her favorite chapters – it's a useless exercise – until he calls her and she can explain her cryptic text from last night.

Kate stares, once again, at the tennis bracelet on her right wrist, suffused by the inherent strength it gives her and takes a deep breath. Time. She needs time to explain. One phone call. Five minutes. Is that too much to ask?

She grabs her phone off the bed for probably the tenth time this morning, willing it ring, hoping she'll get a chance to rationalize her behavior from not only tonight but ten years ago. This primal need to save Rick is only ramping up her anxiety. It's him. His family. Alexis and Martha. And possibly, their future.

Their exchange of texts last night only heightened her need to protect him. He laid his heart on a platter for her, hoping for a nugget of promise to digest and, again, and she did what she has always done with him – shut him out. He bravely asked, even begged, for a justification for why she left him ten years ago without so much as a note. A reason. Something to grab onto.

The Kate Beckett from a decade ago couldn't swallow the information fast enough to properly justify leaving him. She just knew she had to leave. That fateful phone call from Esposito still rings in her head, so much that she can almost recite it completely. It was 7:36am, Sunday the 12thof April, 2008. Rick was sleeping soundly next to her and rain was softly coming down on the Cape. Her eyes were hazy, watching the showers and savoring the previous night – let alone weeks. She was convinced that at some point in the next few days a pregnancy test was justified, that much was sure. She turned away from the window, faced Rick and his sleepy face and smiled. Minutes, maybe hours later, the world changed. And she left. She left him, still sleeping peacefully.

Three hours later, she witnessed Cole Maddux in the box, singing like Sinatra at the Met after a few drinks. The Dragon was going down. She was sure of it. The break she had hoped would always come had finally arrived. Her persistence and crusade to save her mother was over. Her Dad could get closure (and so could she) and they could start over; re-shape their lives as Johanna would wish. She winces back the regrets from that morning and swallows, heartache singeing her esophagus all the way down to her hollow, bottomless stomach.


End file.
